The Phone Call
by tvnerdgirl
Summary: A oneshot in which the core Scooby Gang recieves a phone call informing them of Cordelia's death. This is a short piece that deals with their reactions to the loss of one of their own.


Giles got the phone call at 11:00 PM. Of all the things that he thought Angel might have to tell him, Cordelia Chase's death was not one of them. To say it was a shock was understating it. He wasn't entirely sure how to react.

He would have to call Willow and Xander as soon as possible. Angel had likely already called Buffy, but he doubted that he would bother to get in touch with the other two. It would be easier to hear it from Giles than it would be from Angel, especially in Xander's case.

Giles shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the image of their reactions when he told them. He hated to have to do this. He hated to do this to them. He hated that Cordelia's young life had been lost.

He had never been particularly close to her, but she had been one of the group. One of his group. One of his kids. He had been Buffy's watcher specifically, but he had always felt a responsibility to all of them. He had been their leader, and in some ways, their father. He had watched them all come into their own, and guided them the best way he knew how.

Buffy, Xander and Willow had matured. He had watched happen. They had built their own lives and become adults. He would never be able to express how proud he was of them. They had grown up. They no longer needed him, and he accepted, even welcomed it.

When he thought of Cordelia however, he still thought of a child. A spoiled, yet essentially warm hearted young girl. He had never thought he would have to bury her. A deep, profound sadness, mixed with guilt overwhelmed him. He had failed her.

It had been his job, his duty to teach them, to prepare them, to keep them from dying. It hadn't been in his job description as a watcher perhaps, but it had as a man. It had been his job, and he had failed them. He had failed her.

And now it was at an end. It all seemed like such a terrible waste. It made him furious and at the same time so very very tired.

As he picked up the phone to call Willow and Xander, he felt older than he ever had before. Another one of his kids were gone. Would it ever end?

Buffy got the phone call at 11:05PM. She hadn't expected to hear Angel's voice, but the moment she did, she became worried. He sounded like he hadn't slept in days.

"Angel what's wrong?" She twirled the phone cord around her finger anxiously as he heaved a shuddering sigh on the other end.

"It's Cordelia, Buffy." Angel paused and she could hear him drawing a ragged breath. Her stomach was like lead. "She died last night."

"Oh." It was all she could think to say. Numbness settled within her. She hadn't ever been really close to Cordelia, but there had been a kinship there. They had survived high school together. All of them.

That fact alone had given her cause to think that they had succeeded, that she had succeeded in something at least. She had kept them alive. They had fought with her and survived high school together, unscathed. And now one of them was gone.

"Buffy?" Angel's voice cut into her thoughts. "Did you hear me?"

"Yea I heard you," she said softly. There was no mistaking the pain in his voice and it caused her to wonder just how close Angel had been to her. "I…I'm so sorry. Are you OK?"

"I'll live," he said with a somewhat bitter laugh. "I just thought that you should hear it from me Buffy."

"Thanks," she replied and meant it. She wanted to question Angel on the nature of his feelings for Cordelia, but couldn't bring herself to do so. A friend of hers was dead, and no matter how long it had been since she had seen her, or how different the two of them had been, Buffy would miss her. A thought struck her and she worked up the courage to voice it. "How…how did she die?"

"It was…a demon." He said hesitatingly. She knew, even as he said it that he was lying. There was more to it than that, but for some reason he didn't want to tell her, or he felt he couldn't tell her. It was obviously private. Those in LA would know the true cause and nobody else. He had made a new family there and it hurt Buffy to think that she was no longer part of it. "She did all she could, but it was just too much."

"Do the others know?" She asked, trying to ignore the lump in her throat. "Willow, and Xander? Oh God, Xander. He's going to be so…"

"I called Giles," Angel interrupted swiftly. "He said he would call them and let them know. I wanted to tell you in person."

"Thank you Angel," she spoke sincerely knowing that that small gesture meant she wasn't completely insignificant to his new life. "Really, thank you. I…I'm so sorry."

"Yea, me too." He sounded tired. "Look I have to go. Good bye."

He hung up before she could say good bye in return, leaving her alone with her thoughts and her memories of Cordelia Chase.

Willow got the phone call at 11:15PM. She almost dropped the phone when Giles broke the news to her, and she didn't even realize she was crying until she tasted the salt of her own tears.

She had never even really liked Cordelia Chase, but when someone you have known since childhood dies, you cry. It was a rule. Or it should be at least.

Still there was more to it than just obligation. She hadn't liked Cordelia, but it felt like a family member was gone. It felt like something was now missing. A part of their childhood had died along with Cordy.

She could no longer talk to Xander about their childhood without remembering that she was gone. All the funny jokes and memories and moments would constantly remind her that not all of them had been able to survive the evil that existed beyond the sunny façade of California. Cordelia had tried to run, but she hadn't been able to run far enough, or fast enough.

She wondered if Xander knew yet. She wondered how he would react. First Anya, now Cordy. Would they ever stop dying?

She wanted to call Xander. She almost picked up the phone to do so several times, but hesitated. She wasn't sure if he knew yet, and she didn't want to be the person to have to tell him. It was selfish, but she didn't want to be the one to put that hurt on him. Not after everything else he had been through.

Still, she wanted to let him know she was here if he needed to talk. She was his best friend and probably the only other person who could truly appreciate what Cordelia had meant to him. And what she had meant to her.

Shaking slightly, she sat down on her couch, put her head in her hands and allowed herself to cry as she waited for Xander's phone call. She was wrong about crying being a rule. She didn't have to, but she wanted to.

Xander got the phone call at 11:25PM. He had been just about to go to bed, when it had happened and after hanging up with Giles he knew that sleep was impossible.

It was hard to believe she was gone. It felt like just yesterday they had been together in the cafeteria at Sunnydale High, joking and laughing and doing all those silly things that high school couples do. He remembered making up funny stories with his fish sticks and the way she smiled at him when he was acting like an idiot. She was the first to really accept him, and he knew what a trial that had been for her.

Now she was gone. First Anya, now Cordy. He wanted to yell at someone. He wanted to punch a hole in the wall like he had when Joyce died. He wanted to break down and cry until he had no tears left. He wanted to sleep until this entire thing became a nightmare.

They had broken up and parted ways, but she remained a part of him. And now that part was dead. He felt drained, as if he had no more to give to anybody. He wanted to call Willow, wanted to tell her all the things he was feeling inside, but he couldn't manage to dredge up the energy to do so.

He had never felt so alone. None of his friends could really understand. They had all fought with her, alongside her, but they hadn't known her. Not the way he had. And even then, he had a feeling he didn't know all she had been.

She had gone to LA, to fight evil there with Angel and his gang. Xander could only begin to imagine all the things that may have happened to change her, to cause her to grow up, just as he had. He felt a hundred years older than the boy he had been in high school with his very own pirate eye patch to show for it.

It all seemed like such a tragic waste.

He wanted to be able to blame Angel for it. He wanted to think that somehow Angel had been the one to fail her, that he hadn't been able to protect her. He wanted to hate him for that, but he couldn't. Deep down, he knew that her death had not been something anybody could have prevented. Deep down he knew that there was nobody to blame. Deep down he was seething inside.

Anya's death had been just as pointless. Xander wasn't sure how much more heartache he could take. He hadn't said good bye to either of them. It all felt so unfinished.

And suddenly he refused to accept it, refused to submit. He couldn't get to Anya, but he would say good bye to Cordelia. He owed her that much. He strode purposefully over to his night table and fished out a picture of himself, Willow, Buffy and Oz all sitting together on the lawn at Sunnydale High. He drew a small breath and composed his thoughts.

"OK, so here it goes. Hey Cordy. I just heard that you…well, I just got the phone call. I know this is stupid. I mean, I know there's a heaven-Buffy had first hand experience and everything, but I don't know if you can here me. I'm probably just talking to myself. I…I don't know what it is I want to say, other than I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch, sorry I screwed up so royally when we were together. I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you died. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

He shook his head sadly.

"You called me the Zeppo once…said I was useless. I know you were angry, but part of you was right. I can't stop anything, I can't prevent it. I can't even keep the people that I love alive. I'm not the Zeppo, but I am only human. I can accept that. I just want you to know how much I care. How much I will always care. I loved you. And I will miss you."

Setting the picture down, he proceeded to do four things. He let out a soul wrenching cry of frustration, shoved his fist angrily through the wall, allowed the sobs to overtake him, and then lay down in his bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow was another day.


End file.
